


Nightmares and Meteors

by L122YTorch (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:43:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10129853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/L122YTorch
Summary: Sleeping is overrated





	

The room hummed from the air conditioning but was otherwise dead silent. I fit on the couch, barely. It was one of the perks of being somewhat short...or as I call it, "fun sized." 

The fabric beneath me was soft, the blanket above, held in my body heat and I couldn't fight the yawns that washed over me in waves. I knew that I should probably be working on lesson plans or answering the scores of emails that have gone neglected, but I shut my laptop and attempted to sleep. It wasn't always easy to fall into the oblivion of subconsciousness, I never know if I'll be able to slip right through or spend hours of restlessness, praying for sweet blackness.

2008 was the worst. I couldn't sleep. I had vivid nightmares filled with death that would give way to cold sweats. Sometimes I would sleepwalk, other times I would scream in my sleep. I couldn't stand my room, so I would migrate from bed to sofa to other sofa, just to see if it would help...it never did. There were days that blended together, hours lost..but the worst part was the crushing silence, the complete loneliness of knowing that the world was asleep and I wasn't.

It was like a cruel joke.

I'll never forget the night it was the worst. I called home from Austin, standing in the bathroom crying, it was 4 in the morning and I couldn't sleep to save my life. It felt like I was losing it. And I needed a voice...a hand...a person...to pull me back to reality, to save me from drowning in myself. But there are very few who come to the rescue.

Even when my blog was filled with suicidal things and I had stopped eating...I'd reach out...they'd know...you knew I was drowning...and you didn't come. You didn't call. And it just made me want to drown that much more. It made me wan...ended me.

This was what I was thinking on the couch, in the dark, trying to sleep, my eyelids heavy, dropping, closed, sleep encroaching from the dark corners of the room, driving towards me until I was in my head.

That's one of the scariest parts about falling asleep...it's like locking yourself in a room, except the room is your mind.

I don't recall now what the dream was...but it felt like I couldn't breathe. I clawed for air, feeling my throat constrict, my lungs scream in pain. Tears streamed down my face as I shouted out for help, but no one heard my calls.

I awoke with a start, heaving air in and out, sweat dripping down my face and mingling with the tears that had carved salty paths down my face. My heart beat so loud that it felt as though there were a hand reaching into my chest and forcibly pumping it. The beat rang in my ears. It was like college all over again. My roommates never mentioned when I would scream myself awake, but I could tell by the looks on their faces the next day.

This time you came running. I heard a click and light shattered the confines of darkness that had eaten me up. Your eyes were wide with panic, they matched mine. I was disoriented, lost, in several senses of the word. I reached out and you pulled me into a tight hug. I knew that you could feel my heart on your chest. It skipped out of fear and sent bursts of blood to my head that fueled a blooming headache. 

After a few moments, the world began to slow it's spin. I tried to focus on objects around the room to put the breaks on an impending panic attack. It was one method (of many) that I've used. 

You began to pull away from me and I missed your heat immediately, but the last thing I wanted was to cling when I shouldn't. So I let go. 

I couldn't look at you. You asked if I was okay and of course lied. You brushed my sweat matted hair behind my ear and I could feel the pressure of your gaze pushing down on my flesh. I wished so fucking bad that I could take the feeling your stare gave me and put it into a bottle to relish forever. The way your eyes made my stomach flip, my heart skip, my pupils flare. I wanted to wrap my soul in yours and never let go. But I was born at the wrong time.

Fuck me.

I didn't say anything. You asked if I wanted to talk about it...and rather than recount the images that were flooding back to me, I nodded a 'no.'

I wiped my face, took a deep breath, tried to collect the pieces of my mind that were scattered about my skull and laid down on my side. I expected you to go but you didn't move. 

I had always thought of myself as the moon to your planet. I'd sit in the darkness of space and watched as Earth embraced sea as nothing but darkness embraced me. I couldn't turn away, I was in your grip, but I wanted to come crashing down. I wanted to be a meteor, flying hot and fast towards you, finally able to reach for a single moment...even if it meant I'd be shattered into a thousand pieces..................I'd shatter for you.

Maybe if you knew, maybe if you could taste my intense burning heat, you'd understand what it's like. 

Maybe not.

You were still standing in front of me, and so naturally I had to make the poor decision to reach out and rest my hand on your belt. I caressed the leather with my thumb, getting lost in the tactile as I tried to forget the mental. I could hear your breath hitch, and I figured it would be better to ask for forgiveness than permission. With my hand I undid the belt and toyed with the metal button at the top of your fly. It was cool to the touch but quickly warmed from my fingers. I knew you wanted me to undo it, but that would be too easy.

Instead I felt you through the tough fabric of your jeans, running my hand up and down the length I could feel hardening within. A guttural grown bubbled up from somewhere deep in your chest as you pushed harder against my hand. 

I was so wet that I was absentmindedly moving my hips and squeezing my legs together. It was one of the perks of being me...I never needed lube. 

I hummed in appreciation of your response and dipped my fingers in the waistband of your jeans, slipping a finger past the elastic underwear I reached and found what I was looking for. I bit my lip as I fought the urge to taste you, instead drawing spirals with the pad of my finger on the head of your wet cock. I let my hands tease your most sensitive spots until I was met with sounds of frustration...which made me smile and want to move even slower...but I wouldn't...couldn't do that to you. So I removed my hand and undid the button before slowly sliding the zipper down, relishing in each catching sound as the metal teeth slid apart. 

Fuck...I wanted you inside of me so badly that it made my soul ache. But I enjoyed this equally as much.

All that stood between my hand and you was your boxers, so I reached in and freed your aching cock, continuing to draw circles on the head and rub my thumb just below it. At this point I wasn't sure who exactly I was torturing...you or me. 

I couldn't help of think of everything I wanted to do to you. I wanted you handcuffed, blindfolded, completely spread apart and at my mercy, begging. I wanted you in my bed and on my couch and on my kitchen counters. I wanted to drink you dry and leave marks on you that would never disappear. I wanted to sink my teeth into your flesh, bathe in your scent, wrap my legs around your hips and around your face. 

I groaned in disappointment, want and need. I was thinking too much so I changed course and darted my tongue out to press into the head of your dick. You went to move, but my hands prompted you to stay still. You wanted my hands on you, stroking you, but I waited...kissing your tip and using my tongue to expertly torture you before sinking myself down and taking you into my mouth. 

There was something about you still being fully clothed that was so fucking hot. 

I would lick and suck and kiss you before finding a rhythm and just when your breath began to quicken into overdrive, I would go back to licking and kissing, finally gathering up my bravery to look up at you. And fuck was I glad I did...because the look you gave me in return had the power to break me in half. 

You tried to pull away, but I pulled you back.

I freed your balls and kissed them too, playing with them lightly in my hands, taking them into my mouth as my hand drove up and down your length. The noises you made were delicious and were instantly catalogued in my mind for later use with my toys. 

You were sweating, shaking with the effort to evade the inevitable. But it wasn't possible...

I gathered you into my mouth as far as I could, until my nose touched your stomach and your hands came up to my head, fingers threaded in my hair, it was too much and not enough all at the same time. 

Instead of me moving my head, I used my hands to move your hips until you were feverishly fucking my mouth. 

For once I didn't have a story or a witty retort or a stale apology...you were enveloped in me and it left no room for doubt or disagreement or conversation. 

Your movements became rough, profanity pouring from your lips as you watched yourself disappear into me. Fuck...I wished so bad I could get outside of my own body and watch it myself...

You finally said my name and came hard, filling my mouth with your liquid heat that I readily drank down. I hummed around you in satisfaction, knowing I would sleep much better, knowing my dreams wouldn't haunt me anymore tonight, knowing that I was a meteor for once and it was worth falling and breaking for.


End file.
